


hearts like ours

by heavenlymoonbeam (vilupe)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Historical, Claiming, Courtship, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mating, Omega Castiel, pining!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 11:52:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vilupe/pseuds/heavenlymoonbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She’s describing the differences between alphas and omegas when her voice turns bitter and she whispers into his hair, “Alpha’s are made to tear us apart, Castiel. Everything about them can only hurt.”</p><p>*<br/>When it comes to alpha's, Castiel can't seem to get past a lifetime's worth of fear and preconceptions. Luckily, Dean's simple charm and affectionate manners turn out to surpass all expectations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hearts like ours

Castiel softly steps through the dark hallway, sheltering a short candle in the curve of his small palm and counting his steps so that he can creep around the creaky floorboard that is near the entrance to Hester’s room. Once he’s successfully navigates the path from his room to hers, he slips into the brightly lit bedroom and closes the doors quickly, clumsily trying to prevent the light from spilling out into the hall.

Hester blinks at him with red, swollen eyes, her quilt a tumbled mess around her hips with papers and books strewn on top. She’s been crying all day; cruel words flying back and forth between Mama and Michael that he didn’t understand. It’s something about that alpha that used to come a courting. Something about Mama telling Hester she deserves this for not pursuing a proper vocation like teaching or housekeeping instead.

All Castiel understands as he crawls into his older sister’s bed and wraps his thin arms around her neck is that she’s hurting and needs comfort.

“Oh, Castiel,” Hester sighs, holding him close. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Mama says doctoring isn’t for omegas and that’s why your alpha left you,” He mumbles into her shoulder, shuddering at the upset and anger he can sense from her despite her words. “Is that— is that true?”

“Maybe so. But I didn’t want a mate anyway.”

He stays in her lap, small for a boy of ten. On the bed are anatomy diagrams of alphas and betas, and desperately searching for a distraction, he lets his curiosity get the better of him, asking about the strange images detailed on the wrinkled, yellowing pages. Hester takes the time to answer his questions while she wipes away the last of her tears.

She’s describing the differences between alphas and omegas when her voice turns bitter and she whispers into his hair, “Alpha’s are made to tear us apart, Castiel. Everything about them can only hurt.”

Castiel is too young, too sheltered to understand the emotions layered within her voice. He is ten and completely fascinated by the diagram of a knot that he holds in his hands, so subconsciously he latches on and misunderstands.

* * *

His first heat burns through his body at the tender age of twelve. Castiel is the only one in his family that is surprised by it. It’s not for the fact that he has any preconceptions over what it means to be omega, for Hester was the only one that bothered to explain anything that Mama thought would be inappropriate to him and she had left for the city a little more than a year ago. But rather, he does not know of anyone that has presented so early other than Meg, and she is an alpha so it’s not like it applies.

Heat is hot and uncomfortable, unfathomable. He cries the first night, confused and overwhelmed by what he has no context for.

This is how Mama finds him. She ushers him quickly into the prepared heat room that was built into the barn loft long before Hester had presented. Long, work-tired fingers soothe back his damp curls and her scent, strong and comforting, grounds him enough that the world isn’t so painful anymore.

“Everything will be fine, my darling,” Mama says. “You’re safe, you’re safe. No big, bad alphas will come and get you here.”

A few days later he begs to go back to school, sure that nothing has changed with an innocence only youth is capable of. She relents, walking with him to the little schoolhouse that serves everyone in their village that is under working age. Her strides are quick and tense, but Castiel doesn’t pay it any mind when it means that he can finally be free of the walls of both barn and farmhouse.

He runs ahead to the happy circle Samandriel, Hannah, and Rachel are making in the field behind the school, eager to get back to playing with his friends. Mama tuts, calling his name exasperation, but not pressing the matter of him running off because she needs to talk to Mr. Inias.

Before he makes it to them, he’s tackled hard into the grass. Pinned by a body that’s smaller than his but so much stronger, Castiel blinks up into Meg’s eyes. Her face is different from what he knows, eyes glinting with a threatening edge to them that is wholly unfamiliar. It scares him, frightens some deep part of him that’s rabbit soft and ever quickening since his heat.

Mama and Mr. Inias pull her off, but the damage is done. Castiel is frightened enough that he meekly agrees when Mama insists that Mr. Inias can’t keep him safe from alphas and riffraff. It turns out that he doesn’t return to his classes at the schoolhouse after all.

* * *

He spends the next couple years learning from Michael whenever he could take time from tending to the farm, corresponding with Hester over city learning that would make Mama gasp, sneaking out into rolling fields of wheat for wild adventures with Gabriel. He helps with the animals, excels at the tasks Mama deems proper for him, and works hard to quiet the rabbit that beats in his chest.

At fifteen he is strong, boyish, a little rougher than Mama would like, but it’s worth not having to walk around with an escort whenever he wanted to go wandering or to the store. Still, Castiel’s heart remains soft, kind; there are too many things that delight and fascinate for him to become cold.

All that that sweetness lends an almost delicate look to his eyes. It has the Alpha’s calling, asking for permission to court him when he comes of age.

Although the years have shaped him into a far braver person than he was at twelve, non-fraternal alphas, not to mention mating too, are still a source of anxiety for him. It’s a mix of Hester’s lingering resentment and Mama’s overzealous sheltering and aspersions. It’s the fight that broke out over Ms. Joanna, two alphas nearly ripping each other to shreds over violent lust and mating instinct—not that she wanted either of them in the end. Or even the whispers of public matings that go on in the city. All excused by the animal drive of having a knot.

After failing Hester, Mama is delighted by the interest, but is worried that he is too young, too fragile. It is a relief when she says no, but the cost is that now she feels she must educate Castiel on what to expect when he is to be claimed and mated.

The colorful explanation does nothing to ease his fears, and with Michael’s protective help, he manages to successfully put off being courted for another six years.

* * *

Mama is sick, bedridden and moaning for Gabriel to fetch her things and tend to her instead of helping with the horses and chickens like he normally does. Castiel sends a quick prayer for forgiveness because he can’t help but be glad at the turn of events.

The late summer storms had hit the older buildings hard, one of those being the Church. The resulting damage to the building is somewhat beyond the scope of their current means, so Castiel had posed the idea that they should host a bake sale to raise funds. Mama and the other omegas were all delighted to be able to do something to help and agreed.

Being that it is Castiel’s idea that resulted in Mama volunteering to make pies and sweets to sell, she was obliged to follow through on her promise or else she risked the family looking poor in front of their neighbors. This meant it was on Castiel to set up a stand alongside other omegas which also meant that he had a solid two days or so away from the farm and Mama’s harping that he should be looking to settle down like a proper omega with a good alpha and have lots of babies— of course, Gabriel and Michael don’t get the same lecture because they’re alphas and got plenty of time.

Here in front of the Church he feels safe enough that even the tiny tinge of wariness that creeps up whenever he talks to alphas he’s known all his life is gone, so he doesn’t think to guard himself when another alpha approaches his stand.

“Those wouldn’t happen to be apple pies, would they?” He asks, gesturing to the pies Castiel has on display.

The alpha in front of him is dirty, wood dust covering his clothes and some sort of dark gloss smeared on his cheek. His voice is rich like dark honey and unfamiliar to Castiel.  Castiel blinks wide stunned eyes at this alpha he’s never met before, and he tries to remember why he feels like he should know who this alpha is.

The alpha’s lips twitch into a smile at Castiel’s lack of response, and he holds out his hand in offering. “I’m Dean, the carpenter Bobby called in from the next town over? That young miss over there told me you had the only apple pies here and I couldn’t resist coming over to get me a slice.”

Propriety makes it strange for an alpha to offer to shake hands with an omega although it’s not unheard of. Castiel tries to tell himself that Mama would never approve. It doesn’t seem to work to deter him. Castiel must be possessed by some otherworldly creature, for he cautiously slides his hand into Dean’s. “Castiel Novak.”

Dean’s hand is dry, calloused, but it is not so different from Castiel’s farm worked hands, and something about their palms together fits. He allows Dean to hold his hand for a beat longer than what’s strictly acceptable before sliding it free to gesture at the Church behind him.

“Seeing as these pies are to help pay for your work, I’d be happy to give you one no cost,” He says, blushing at the pleased look his words seem to cause. Castiel nervously stutters out, “Th-That is if you wish it.” He cringes at how eager and young he sounds for a man of twenty-one.

“That’s mighty kind of you, Castiel,” Dean says, smiling so bright it’s like afternoon sunshine. “Could I happen to get a piece now? I really love me some pie.”

Castiel quickly cuts him a slice and hands it over, trying not to burst into flames at Dean’s steady gaze. “I think it’s kind of you to come all the way over here and help do the work Bobby and the locals can’t. I mean, knowing we don’t have much to pay you to redo all the intricate details that were destroyed— I assure you. We won’t forget such charity, Dean.”

Dean looks down at the praise, his expression shy and a bit uncomfortable.

It’s humble, and oh so endearing to see in an alpha.

Someone calls for him from inside the Church, and he looks torn between lingering around Castiel’s stand and going in do what he’s here for. “Do you mind if I leave the rest of this here with you and come by later for more?”

Castiel nods quickly, anxiously glancing towards the direction of the irate voices.

Dean hollers a loud, “I’m coming, dammit,” and begins to stomp off, stuffing bites of his slice of pie into his mouth. Before he enters through the doors, he glances back at Castiel, his scowl melting off to give him a soft smile.

A little dazed at his own strange behavior, it takes a while for Castiel to realize that his heart’s not beating rabbit fast. And though he’s nervous for once it’s not out of fear.

* * *

The Church gets done by the end of the month and with its completion should come Dean’s departure from their village. But they’ve been missing a competent carpenter for a while now, and Bobby’s specialty was always more about fixing farm equipment than building things and making beautiful pieces of furniture.

Needless to say, many people are very enthusiastic about commissioning Dean for work while he’s still here. So one month turns to two and then three until it is nearly a year since Dean started staying in their village.

Dean had moved out of Bobby’s house a few months back which has resulted in Gabriel’s incessant teasing that his new house is so perfect and quaint for starting a family. Not that Castiel hadn’t noticed himself when Mama, Michael, and Gabriel escorted him over to visit. It was the first and only time he had stepped foot through those doors, but it was so bright, all yellow walls and white trim and delicately carved banisters, Castiel couldn’t help but feel inexplicably at home there.

Gabriel also can’t seem to get it out of his head that Dean intends to court Castiel. Of course there is evidence for Gabriel’s ideas. Dean is a very attentive caller. He makes pains to please both Mama and Micheal whenever he stops by and enjoys Gabriel’s larks as long as he’s not their target.

And there are the gifts. Tiny creatures whittled out of wood until they are smooth and detailed and precious. Little dancers, animals, and fantastic beasts always shyly fished out of pockets and placed into Castiel’s hands with soft looks and smiles. It’s all so doting and affectionate that for the first time Castiel wants. A thought that is equal parts thrilling and frightening.

* * *

Nothing truly moves forward between them until the Harvelle’s barn raising. The old building collapses in early August, sunbleached wood crumbling from age and rot. All sorts of people from the village show up to help them rebuild, including Dean.

Castiel helps where he can; though they have plenty who have shown up to work on the barn proper there are smaller tasks here and there that Ellen and Joanna need help with as well.

It’s distracting work. The summer heat blazes down upon them, making shirts stick to sweaty chests and backs. Dean’s especially mesmerizing, his hair sun kissed gold instead of its normal light brown and his eyes shine with the satisfaction that comes from knowing that his work is helping someone. Castiel isn’t proud of the fact that he nearly tramples a hog while delivering materials just because he can’t seem to look away.

Sometime later, Joanna catches him woolgathering among the chickens and stifles her laugh in favor of handing him a bucket of water and cups. “I think Dean could use a break, don’t you?” She asks, and her knowing look is enough to send Castiel scrambling off to the barn with the water.

He stops to call over his shoulder a quick, “If Mama asks—”

“I didn’t see you,” She confirms.

Castiel arrives to the skeleton of what is to be the new barn and places the bucket of water on a free space of table that has been assembled outside. Dean catches his eye as he’s ladling out water into the cups and his face splits into such a charming grin.

“Good morning, Cas,” Dean says, approaching the table in several quick, easy strides.

“Dean,” Castiel demurs. Castiel lowers his gaze and hands Dean one of the cups of water, trying his hardest not to shiver when Dean’s fingers skim his own as he grips the cup. From under his lashes he watches the arch of Dean’s neck as he downs the water. The bob of his Adam’s apple makes an alluring picture that has Castiel flushing darkly from something other than this heat.

“Thanks,” Dean says, wiping the sweat from his brow with his free hand. “That’s just what I needed.”

The cup is placed once again on the table and there is a beat of silence between them as Dean watches Castiel and Castiel gathers his courage.

“Would you like to take a walk with me? Well,” Castiel clarifies, feeling a little foolish, “It doesn’t have to be a walk we can sit. I was just wondering if you wanted a break, is all.”

“I would love to take you,” Dean says, eyes widening at his own blunder. His freckles are a stark, muddy brown against his red cheeks, and he sheepishly scratches the back of his neck before continuing, “Take a walk with you, I mean.”

Castiel bites his lip to keep himself from laughing, but evidence of Dean’s obvious nerves seems to settle the rioting in his gut.

They wander side by side into the corn field that is the Harvelle’s main source of income. The stalks are tall and a green so lovely it rivals the flecks in Dean’s eyes. Castiel is struck silent for a good part of the walk, not knowing what to do now that he is essentially alone with Dean for the first time. Luckily, Dean fills the air between them with delightful stories of his brother’s children who still live in Dean’s old town and the occasional difficult commission he gets from a customer.

Talking about Dean’s work brings images of the beautiful little creatures that Dean keeps making him to mind, and Castiel finally seems to get a handle on his frozen tongue during a lull in Dean’s storytelling to say, “Of course they trust you with things like that Dean, your work is wonderful. I-I can’t thank you enough for the pieces you make me. They are so intricate, must take so much time. I—”

Dean stops in the middle of the field, reaching out to tug on Castiel’s hand so that he can look into his eyes. “Aw, Cas. I’m happy to make them for you. You deserve beautiful things.”

“Speaking of which,” Dean says. His eyes slide away from Castiel’s face, hands delving into his pocket to pull out a small rabbit from its folds. “I know it’s not much. Yesterday and today have been so busy. I almost didn’t bring it for fear it’d break or I’d lose it, but I thought it’d be a shame to see you and not give it to you.”

It’s smaller, less detailed than most of the beasts Dean’s given him, but that he had still thought to make one was a gesture that set Castiel’s heart ablaze.

“Dean,” Castiel gasps, rocking forward and gripping the back of his collar tightly within his fists. His mouth meets Dean’s clumsily, the hard press of lips against skin a testament to Castiel’s inexperience.

Dean groans softly regardless. One of his large hands comes up to grip Castiel’s linen shirt and pull him closer until the line of their bodies meet, sweat stuck and clinging in the summer heat. The hand still holding the rabbit is fisted low against the dip in Castiel’s spine, and Dean presses impossibly closer with his strength as he tilts his head and catches Castiel’s lips properly with his own.

It’s so incredibly hot, the puff of Dean’s breath damp against his cheek. The gentle tease of wetness at the meeting of their lips. They both part, blue locking with green in a moment of hesitation, confirmation, before they fall back into each other with a fervor that is deeper than that of their previous kiss.

When they have both taken their fill of one another, Castiel steps back slightly. Truly, he is loath to part with Dean, but he needs some clarity away from the pull of Dean’s body.

“Please, Cas,” Dean murmurs, reaching out to tangle their fingers together. “May I claim you properly?”

Castiel feels a momentary spike of fear, the idea of mating having been built up into this looming inevitability that he has tried to avoid for so long. But it doesn’t last. He is so very pleased. That Dean has asked Castiel himself for his hand before Michael or Mama is just another token of how much Dean values him as a person. And Castiel can’t deny that he is drawn to Dean, that he feels for him on a much deeper level than he has felt for anyone.

Castiel squeezes Dean’s hand and smiles. “I can’t see us being anything other than mates, Dean.”

Dean and Castiel wait only until night has come and no more work can be done on the barn to speak to Michael about the understanding that has come between them. Neither Michael nor Mama are surprised by their news, and to Castiel’s relief both seem satisfied with the outcome. It is understandable, for they have only sought to protect Castiel and for an omega there is still no greater protection than being mated.

* * *

By mutual agreement, their mating ceremony is just two weeks after their first kiss. It had seemed silly to wait when they had both been dancing around their feelings for nearly a year already. And Castiel loves Dean so much, he can’t fathom that ever changing.

Still, he trembles within their marriage bed. He trusts Dean with this, for Dean has never been anything but careful and deliberate when it comes to their relationship. But he has always heard that lying with an alpha is painful, a duty that all omegas must bear for the sake of the bond and children.

Castiel wants their bond to be official, irrevocable. He wants it to tie them together with a certainty that can only come from a physical claim and not the vows they had shared in front of friends and family. So when Dean asks if he would like to wait instead, if he would like to work up to such intimacy, Castiel assures him that he is ready.

Dean’s hands shake when he slips Castiel’s clothes from his body. His lips are worshipful and soft, pressing ardent kisses to the curve of his neck, the planes of his chest, his soft stomach and softer thighs. His sole focus is Castiel’s pleasure, and Castiel melts into the sheets at the glide of rough palms on his skin. He touches Dean in return, skips fingers over the broad expanse of Dean’s shoulders, the slight pudge around his hips. Dean allows him to look his fill, and his eyes and mouth learn the secrets to his alpha’s body that Castiel will share with no other from now on.

When they join it is not a chore but a relief. Castiel’s body is strung so tightly, straining to be satisfied. Even more life altering than the bliss of their joined bodies, is the sense of their bond locking into place as Dean bites down to make his claim.

When Dean is asleep behind him, arms locked around his middle, Castiel thinks that tomorrow he will ask Dean to help him start a garden like the one back on the farm. Maybe they can even plant an apple tree or two, watch it grow and bear fruit as their future children grow strong and tall. It’s a happy image. One that will need him fat and round with Dean’s babes. Perhaps he will even have to spend many nights fulfilling his duty in their marriage bed just to make it so. 

Castiel smiles to himself as he slowly drifts off to sleep. Weeks pass and he finds that mated life suits him very well.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This was a delightful prompt which got long enough that I felt I could cross post it from [my tumblr](http://www.heavenlymoonbeam.tumblr.com). I got to parallel some courting aspects that I was writing for a different fic, so there'll be things in a similar vein to come.


End file.
